


Crave

by Georgina Kiersten (theimperialpurple)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Blood Drinking, Dark, Dark Fantasy, Dubious Consent, Erotica, Extremely Dubious Consent, Hate Sex, Humiliation, M/M, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Non-Consensual Spanking, Spanking, Vampire Hunters, Vampires, Verbal Humiliation, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-07 16:37:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21220199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimperialpurple/pseuds/Georgina%20Kiersten
Summary: Baltasar Kristofersson is the only descendant left of the once-powerful and respected ‘Einarr’ hunting clan. It was only a chance of fate that allowed Baltasar to survive when the Asar Vampire Coven brutally murdered his entire family. Now, Baltasar has been hunting his family's killers one by one and he finally has a chance to kill the monster responsible for all of his grief: Izîl Asar, the King of the Asar Coven.Unfortunately, to get his revenge, it forces Baltasar to use both his charms and his body to lure Izîl into a trap. From the moment Izîl touches Baltasar's body, the hunter seems to come alive and the line between hunter and prey becomes blurred. Baltasar only has one night to kill Izîl or possibly face his death at the hands of the seductive vampire. Yet, can Baltasar complete his mission in the face of such exquisite pleasure and pain?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I blame [M.A.Hinkle](https://maryannehinkle.com) for this and her blatant enabling on twitter. This was inspired by more than a few things: the anime 'Vampire Knight' and the 'Underworld' movies (especially when it comes to vampire aristocracy). I am actually watched 'Vampire Knight' and hated 'Yuki's character'. What I wanted more than anything was some great hate sex between Kaname and Zero. Unfortunately, there was very little smut to read. I decided instead of writing fanfic that I really wanted a black vampire dominating a white hunter and with the aforementioned enabling of M.A. 'Crave' was born. This short story has been a labor of love and a challenge that was absolutely worth it. I really hope you guys love it and I wish you a happy Halloween!

## Chapter One

> “In order to know virtue, we must first acquaint ourselves with vice.”   
― **Marquis de Sade**

Baltasar Kristofersson rarely prayed, but if there was ever a time for it, it was now. Tonight, he would commit murder or die trying. He wasn’t sure which one he wanted more. Either way, it felt right to him to be there in this cathedral far from the church he had gotten baptized in Iceland. As he stepped two rows of candles under the feet of The Virgin Mary his hands automatically cross himself.

He took a stick and lit a candle. He smiled sadly as an image of his mother picking him up to sit on her lap during service. The sweet smell of her perfume and her warmth beside him as she read from her bible. His father on the other side mouth along to the bible passages the Priest was reciting because he already knew them by heart.

Baltasar’s eyes stung with unshed tears as he lit a candle and prayed for his family, and that hopefully tonight he would finally bring him peace. One last look at the flickering candles, Baltasar turned around and walked out into the fading light of the day. He pulled out a pair of sunglasses and hailed a taxi.

With it being October and far from tourist season, it was easy to find a cab. He slid into the white taxi.

"Palazzo Mezzanotte, _Jekk jogħġbok[1]_."

The cabbie raised an eyebrow, opened his mouth as if he would say something but he just shook his head and started to drive. Baltasar wondered if the cabbie suspected exactly what goes on in Palazzo Mezzanotte? He sighed; it didn’t matter. He leaned back against the seat and looked out of the window. The pink and orange hues of sunset made the tan and off-white colored houses and buildings of the town of Naxxar seem almost ethereal.

Malta in the bright light of day was picturesque, a perfect Instagram backdrop. Palm trees swaying in the breeze. The people on the narrow streets seemed to not get the memo it was late October. He spotted islanders wearing t-shirts, tank tops, and shorts as the car drive passed

Baltasar hands reached inside into the small hole of his jacket and felt the subtle reassuring weight of the only weapons he could risk-taking: two narrow silver stakes. With a sigh, Baltasar turned his attention to the passing scenery. Noticing that they arrived at the edges of the town. The row houses petered out; the only color is their brightly painted doors until Baltasar could merely glimpse the ships out in the harbor.

Finally, Baltasar saw the turrets of the Palazzo, followed the domed roof of the mansion. Although, he couldn’t see much behind the high stone gates that surrounded the property. The taxi pulled in front of a set of wide iron-wrought gates. There was a line of men neatly turned out in tailored tuxedos with women beside them attired in designer gowns and glittering jewelry. At the entrance, they were two hulking guards on either side of the fence. He fidgeted with the cufflinks of his ill-fitting tuxedo; feeling completely out of place.

_‘You must have the courage and the conviction to follow through.' _

Baltasar straightened to attention as his father's words came to him as if he was sitting beside him. There was a cough from the driver and Baltasar quickly paid his fair and stepped out on to the street.

He would get into this party because failure wasn't acceptable.

Baltasar pulled together all of his courage and made his way confidently to the back of the line. There were a few looks thrown his way, but he just gave them a charming smile and said nothing until he reached the head of the line.

"Invitation?"

Baltasar pulled out the invitation from his pocket and handed it to the man. The huge mountain of a man scanned his clipboard. Baltasar tried not to hold his breath, the invitation should be good. He had used up a good portion of his savings to buy this forgery.

‘Problem?'

The man looked up and his eyes flashed and he grinned; flashing a peak of fang. Baltasar wanted to be afraid, but he ruthlessly pushed it down. He kept his breathing even and was very careful to show even the tiniest hint of panic.

Vampires could smell fear.

"No, problem at all Mr. Kristofferson." He handed Baltasar his invitation back. "Enjoy the party."

Baltasar pasted on a smirk, fiercely holding on to his confidence. He turned around and followed the stream of people through the gates.

***

The inside of Palazzo Mezzanotte was just as opulent as the outside. Baltasar’s footsteps echoed on the marble floors as he followed the line of guests through the mansion up to the ballroom. The walls were done in gilded rococo design, antique wall sconces lighting the way. Baltasar shook his head as he starred at the dramatic painting of angels on the wall.

And instead, Baltasar knew that he was walking into the den of monsters. With a sigh, he finally climbed the stairs and finally, he could the murmur of a crowd and the sound of instrumental music. Baltasar walked in and gasped.

Baltasar had grown up in a tiny fishing village on the eastern coast of Iceland. The luxury of ballroom beyond anything he had ever dealt with. The dim light cast from the crystal calendars As Baltasar continued to walk, he noticed on the other side of the room was a lounge section. In the center of the area was a dais and on top sat was an empty throne. On either side of the throne were red sectional sofas lined the wall broken up with matching ottomans and golden chairs.

Baltasar just barley reframed from sneering as he took in the blatant debauchery. An Asian woman and Latinx woman were heatedly making out at the end of the sofa, while a white man with salt and pepper hair was gripping a biracial Twink’s hair and shoving his cock slowly and deliberately in and out of the younger’s mouth. The twink moaned, his head thrown back in obvious bliss. In the center of the mess of withering bodies was a gorgeous woman.

She had dark olive skin and a curtain of silky dark brown hair in a black dress that was bits of satin that clung to her voluptuous figure. One of her tits was out and being suckled by a man that he could only see the back of his head from this vantage point. And he was sure that his hands were up her dress. Sitting on her knee, a long ginger hair woman had her head thrown back across the brunette’s shoulders and the woman’s face buried in her neck in a facsimile of an intimate kiss. But Baltasar knew better, this vampire was feeding on the ginger. Baltasar turned away, his face flushed, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach.

made it seem magical. On one side were tables and chairs dressed in fine scarlet-colored table cloths with gold candelabras in the center. Lining a wall was a long bar with few guys behind it giving out alcohol to waiters dressed in a white button-down shirt and black tie.

He found the best place to people watch and went to stand against the wall. Baltasar grabbed a glass of Champaign from a passing waiter watched for his quarry come.

As he waited for there were a few individuals that came up to him to chat him up, but Baltasar would always give the excuse that he was waiting for someone. It wasn’t a lie, but it amused him what would they think if they realized his true mission. He kept his eyes from the lounge section, fighting that part of himself that was screaming to go save this witless sheeple from clearly being led to their deaths.

He couldn’t ever imagine choosing to be some monster’s dinner. Baltasar thought about draining his drink.

‘Alcohol only makes men fools and reckless.

With a sigh, he pulled the glass he had been nursing all night away from his lips. After being dead for 3 years, his father could induce shame and guilt. Baltasar only wanted this whole ordeal over with and the longer his target took, the more it forced him to pretend that he didn’t want to burn this pretentious mansion and all the monsters within.

“Hey, there,” said a male voice.

Baltasar spun around to see an impeccably dressed black man with a short afro that reminded him of a pencil eraser and a neatly trimmed beard.

“Hello,” Baltasar replied, with a grin

“I haven’t seen around these events before.” He grinned at him, his British accent just making him seem even more distinguished.

“I’m Jalen.”

“Baltasar,” He replied, shaking his hand. Baltasar just barely repressed a shiver at how cold his hand was. “And I have been around,” He shrugged. “You probably don’t remember me.”

Jalen looked him up and down before finally releasing his hand, “I doubt that.”

Baltasar shook his head and tried to not let his wariness show.

The music suddenly stopped, and the room went silent as one they turned toward the double doors.

“All Hail, His Majesty, King Izîl Asar,” a white man announced before he swung open the doors.

As one, the crowd all bowed and Baltazar’s breath caught as the most beautiful man he had ever seen saunter through the doors. Baltasar followed everyone’s lead and bowed in respect. Yet, Baltasar couldn’t quite look away as Izîl’s slight walnut-colored skin glistened in the dim light of the chandelier, his long dreadlocks falling over his shoulder down to his waist. The length of his long coat flying dramatically behind Izîl made his way to the golden throne.

“You may rise,” Izîl commanded, his voice was deep and melodic. He crossed his legs and was ashamed to find himself licking his lips as he watched the tight leather stretch over the vampire’s thick muscular thighs.

“If you excuse me,” Jalen said with an apologetic smile.

Baltasar could only blink because how did he forget that a vampire had been standing so close to him?

‘You’re getting sloppy,’ Baltasar berated himself. He could almost hear his father’s lectures on remaining vigilant. Jalen made his way through the crowd over to the throne and bowed. Izîl waved it away and Jalen hurried up the stairs to talk to him.

And suddenly Baltasar blue eyes met the cold amber brown ones of his family’s murderer. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who showed your support for this story. It is much appreciate it.

> _“We are no guiltier in following the primitive impulses that govern us than is the Nile for her floods or the sea for her waves.”_
> 
> **― Marquis de Sade, Aline et Valcour**

A cold hand slipped around shoulder making him jump and the familiar weight of breasts being pressed against him. He turned to see the woman from earlier. The vision of her fangs deep inside another woman’s throat flashed through his mind. Baltasar wanted to push her away, but that would give him the wrong attention.

“Got eyes for our beloved King, do you?” She whispered in his ear.

Baltasar couldn’t quite repress the shiver, “Well, he’s a bit of a looker.”

“You would have a better chance with me,” The woman chuckled, slowly her hand running down his neck, her sharp nails running over his neck and then down his muscular chest. “Ooh, so fit!” She cooed at him.

“I rarely get this forward with women I’m not on the first-name basis with.”

The woman threw her head back and laughed. Her long straight dark raven hair falling around her beautiful oval-shaped face. Baltasar had to wonder if being attractive was one benefit of becoming a vampire. Every vampire he had ever encountered could have stepped off the pages of some fashion magazine.

“I’m Sahiqa.” She imperiously put out her hand, Baltasar leaned forward to kiss it.

“Baltasar,” He replied.

He gazed back to the throne and Izîl was talking to a group of vampires while Jalen stood silently behind him. Sahiqa ran her sharp nails through his hair and Baltasar once again forcibly repressed the bile that threatened to rise at this creature’s touch. “Would you care to dance?”

Sahiqa preened, “I thought you would never ask.”

He reluctantly took her arm and lead her on to the dance floor. He wrapped his arms around her, and she pressed against him her arms once again wrapping around his neck. They swayed to the soft music.

“So, what do you, Baltasar?”

“It’s something terribly dull.”

She laughed as he spun her around and brought her back against him. “What’s that?”

“Sell insurance.” Sahiqa wrinkled her nose. “Your right _it is_ dull.”

Baltasar for what felt like the dozenth time that night glanced back at the throne then froze when he noticed it was empty. His feet automatically kept with the steps, his eyes scanning the crowd but he found nothing at first and then he finally spotted the King–

and he was headed right for Baltasar!

Sahiqa frowned at him and followed his gaze. She rolled her eyes, “Of course, it’s Izîl.”

Both of them bowed as the King approached.

She put her hands up, “Let me guess? You want to cut in?”

Izîl grinned and Baltasar couldn’t help but admit that his smile was just as beautiful as the rest of him. Unfortunately, Baltasar knew that behind that pretty smile was a ruthless murderer.

“Oh, don’t pout so,” Izîl replied, Baltasar felt goosebumps rise on the back of his neck. “You can still have fun with Evangeline.”

“Fine,” Sahiqa sighed, and flipped her hair, “you always take the good ones.”

Izîl chuckled and Baltasar couldn’t help the low throaty sound made his heartbeat that much faster. He looked away his cheeks going flush. Baltasar inwardly chided himself, “I need to get a hold on myself.” The younger man threw the vampire King a flirty grin. He hoped it didn’t look as fake as it felt.

“Would you like to dance, Baltasar?”

Despite himself, Baltasar still felt his stomach tighten with a sudden desire at the way the vampire said his name. The strange accent rolling over the word like a physical caress. “Yes,” he replied breathlessly. Izîl put out his hand and automatically Baltasar put his hand in the cold hand and their bodies pressed together as the music changed to waltz.

Baltasar frowned as something abruptly occurred to him, “How did you know my name?”

Izîl lifted an eyebrow, “My, precept told me.”

“Precept?”

“My second in command and heir.”

Baltasar snorted, “Why not a prince?”

“I have no idea? Izîl laughed, “It simply has always been the title for someone in his position.”

They danced for what seemed like forever; moving seamlessly together as the music transition from] one song from one song to another. Time for a while appears to not exist. Baltasar didn’t see how they had the entire room’s attention. He didn’t hear the whispers and Baltasar, certainly didn’t the speculative looks or Jalen’s piercing stare. Baltasar could only concentrate on not betraying the conflicting urges pressing closer or to flee from the dangerous predator that was only inches away from him.

Suddenly, the scant few centimeters separating them disappeared and Baltasar swallowed back the moan as he felt Izîl’s hard leather-encased cock rubbing against his trouser leg. He looked up into Izîl’s eyes that were now glowing a frightening shade of red.

Baltasar’s mind instantly went to the stakes in his coat jacket, but as he started to look around at the curious gazes Baltasar knew that if he went for them now that they would rip him apart. He couldn’t help but stiffen as Izîl bent his head. His mouth so close to his jugular, as Baltasar’s swallowed.

“You smell so good,” He whispered. He looked up, his dreadlocks were a curtain separating them from the rest of the world, his eyes intense with hunger. “I must have you.”

One moment Baltasar was in the ballroom, and the next he was being dragged into the hallway.

“What about the ball,” Baltasar asked, half-heartedly protesting Izîl said nothing and continued to tug Baltasar along like he was some unruly puppy. The loud noise and music from the party fading away from the farther they went.

***

They stopped in front of a room with large double doors and Baltasar really didn’t have time to get more of a glimpse of the interior besides a huge window and an enormous bed because he was immediately being slammed against the wall. The lines of the gilded walls digging into his back as Izîl ravaged his mouth. Baltasar groaned and as Izîl’s lips were on his.

Izîl lips were rough and demanding and Baltasar couldn’t help but melt against him. His cock was fully hard and smearing the inside his underwear. All he could help but rub against Izîl’s hard length. Baltasar winced and jerked back and touched his lip and saw that this was a drop of blood. He looked up to Izîl’s face, his eyes completely focused on Baltasar’s pale hands

Izîl’s snatched his hand, and then Baltasar couldn’t help the sharp pang of both fear and lust that slithered up his spine as Izîl sucked in his fingers between his full lips. The vampire’s cold tongue licking his finger, the vampire’s eyes closed in obvious ecstasy.

Izîl dropped his fingers and then abruptly jerked him hard against Baltasar. The vampire growled as took Baltasar’s lips, his tongue swiping over the human’s lips before dipping in to invade his mouth. Baltasar held on to Izîl, a whimper escaping him as their tongues duel for dominance.

Baltasar thought he would faint from the lack of air before Izîl finally backed away. He licked his lips, “You are delicious.”

Panting, Baltasar could only stare at the vampire.

_‘Get a grip on yourself,’ _He inwardly chided. himself. “As your majesty commands,” He said as a slow dirty smile curved his lips. Baltasar walked around Izîl to the bed. Slowly, undoing his bow tie, his hips swaying magnetically side to side in an impromptu striptease, Izîl’s eyes burned into him as he avidly watched him throw the bow tie to the side and then slid the coat off slowly before he eventually dropped to the ground.

“It’s not wise to test my patience, Baltasar,” Izîl growled impatiently.

Baltasar smiled, because unknown to the vampire, he had him right where he wants him.


	3. Chapter 3

> “Lust is to the other passions what the nervous fluid is to life; it supports them all, lends strength to them all ambition, cruelty, avarice, revenge, are all founded on lust.”
> 
>   
**― ****Marquis de Sade**

It took no time at all for Baltasar to finish removing his clothes. Izîl’s eyes trailed over his naked body, his gaze ravenous as he took in every detail of the human. Baltasar laid back in bed, the cool satin of the duvet felt glorious on his bare skin as he spread his legs wide.

Izîl licked his lips and then he was a blur of movement and next thing he knew the vampire King was standing bare in front of him. And Baltasar felt his breath caught at the sight of him. He was a Greek Adonis made real. Broad shoulders, firm chest, thick toned thighs, and large muscular arms. His eyes traveled down to his groin and the vampire’s penis was just as perfect as the rest of him.

It was thick and long, but not monstrously so. Baltasar’s mouth watered and he had the sudden urge to leap from the bed and put his mouth on it. Izîl crossed the distance between, and Baltasar looked up to meet his eyes.

‘Like what you see?’

Baltasar, mouth dry, only nodded. Izîl climbed on the bed, and Baltasar couldn’t help but groan as the hard weight of the vampire dropped on top of him. Baltasar couldn’t concentrate on that for long because suddenly he was being kissed again. He moaned rocking up into him and their cocks rubbing against each other.

‘God, you're so wet.’ Izîl murmured against his lips before plundering his mouth in a hard kiss.

A sharp pang of lust rushed down his spine as they rubbed against each other, the copious amount of precome smoothing the way. The friction was delicious against his throbbing member. The pleasure seemed to be everywhere and Baltasar gripped his ass, their hips smacking up against each other as they moved together as one. Baltasar broke from the kiss and threw his head back; his legs wrapping around Izîl. This was the man that had murdered his family but he couldn’t help how turned on he was. 

One kiss and he turned into a wanton whore for this vampire. Baltasar was ashamed at how much he was already caught up in Izîl’s allure.

His nails dig into Izîl’s bare shoulder. Just a little further, a little harder, and he would spill all over himself. He couldn’t help groan in dismay as Izîl stilled, hands were slipping into his ash blonde hair to yank it back until Baltasar met the vampire’s intense red gaze. “I want to be inside of you.”

Baltasar nodded rapidly because that suddenly seemed like the best idea ever. Izîl let Baltasar’s hair go, and he slid down his body, licking down Baltasar’s throat to nip first at his right nipple. Baltasar yelped at the feeling of the vampire’s blunt human teeth. The danger of those teeth and the razor-sharp desire confused his instincts. It felt so good but he considered just ending this farce now. But he knew the element of surprise was that his only real advantage and he wouldn’t risk his plan going to shit because of sex.

Baltasar had a plan, and he would stick to it!

“Who is the tease now?” Baltasar gasped out. Izîl ignored Baltasar and licked down the stomach, and the human shivered as the vampire’s wet tongue made it way down his happy trail and _finally_ to his cock. Izîl smirked then he licked a stripe up Baltasar’s engorged cock, his tongue swiping across the head. He gasped as Izîl wrapped his full lips around the tip. “God,” Baltasar bit out if his heartbeat much faster, he was sure that it would beat right out of his chest.

Izîl released his cock, Baltasar shivered at the cold saliva and precome contacted the cool air of the drafty bedroom. Abruptly, Izîl’s head dropped, and he shoved Baltasar’s legs wide apart to lick a stripe from the top of his Perineum down path to his hole quivering in anticipation of what was to come. Instead of getting any attention where he desperately wanted, the vampire pulled one of his balls into his mouth, rolling into his mouth before he released it with a wet pop and moved on to the other one.

Baltasar could only lay there and take it, wanting the vampire’s mouth on his hole but Izîl wouldn’t be rushed. After what seemed like forever, that clever tongue swirled around his hole. “Ah, “Balthasar cried out, “Please.”

Izîl didn’t listen to him. He continued to tease his hole with nips and licks. Baltasar wanted to scream in frustration, he was so turned he felt that he was fit to burst. “PLEASE!” He could feel the vampire’s grin against his leg and then suddenly his tongue slip passes the tight ring of muscle. Baltasar cried out at the tongue fucked deep inside. and Baltasar would never admit, that it turned him on to see the feared King of the Asar coven down between his spread thighs. 

Baltasar was so close to coming, and he reached out to put his hands through Izîl’s hair. Fast as a snake, the vampire stopped him. Baltasar moaned, disappointed at the absence of that tongue that had been driving him crazy.

“Don’t touch my hair,” Izîl snapped. He took Baltasar’s hands made him hold on to the iron bars of the wrought-iron headboard. “Keep them there for me.”

“Ooh, kinky.” Baltasar lifted an eyebrow.

“You have no idea, pet.”

Izîl dipped back down between his legs and Baltasar arched as Izîl’s tongue resumed its torturous assault. The vampire went deep inside of him, and then Izîl would teasing pull out to swipe his tongue across the rim before darting right back inside.

“Please, I need you inside me.”

Baltasar looked down to meet Izîl’s red glowing eyes. To Baltasar, relief the vampire gave one last lick to his hole before sitting up. Baltasar hissed as his cold hands wrapped around his throbbing prick. “How much do you want my cock, Baltasar?”

Baltasar hissed, as Izîl squeezed harder; the strength of the vampire’s grip was becoming painful. "Beg," Izîl ordered.

Baltasar found himself that he could do nothing but comply. “P-P-Please,” Baltasar closed his eyes. “Please fuck me,” Baltasar said, repeatedly until it became a mess of syllables, He had to get a hold on himself. Baltasar was slowly falling under this monster’s sway even though he knew what the atrocities he had done. Under Izîl’s hands, everything seemed to fade away and he couldn’t afford that.

Abruptly, something hard and thick slammed all the way inside him. He cried out, arching against Izîl, the vampire’s balls pressed against his ass. Baltasar gripped the headboard even tighter as Izîl bottomed out and slammed right back into him.

“Oh god,” Baltasar shouted, as Izîl immediately zeroed in on his sweet spot.

“You like that, pet?” Izîl asked. He picked up the pace and didn’t give Baltasar a moment to adjust. He just ran roughshod over him like a tidal wave and all Baltasar could do was hold on as Izîl shoved into him again and again. His poor dick was so hard that he thought he would go out of his mind if he didn’t come soon.

Izîl stopped and Baltasar was near tears at this point.

“I said,” Izîl said, way too calmly for someone who currently had his dick up Baltasar’s ass. “Do. You. Like. It?”

Baltasar licked his lips, “Y-yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I like it.”

Izîl thrust back into him. Just like before, he didn’t hesitate to immediately aim for his spot. Baltasar rocked his hips back into every thrust, his hands gripping the headboard so tightly that it surprised Baltasar that the iron wasn’t was cutting into his palms. He couldn’t hear anything but the Izîl’s grunts and the slap, slap, slap, of skin hitting the skin.

The vampire roared, the speed of Izîl’s fucking got impossibly faster.

_‘Baltasar, you must have the courage and the conviction to follow through.’_

It was the strength he needed to pull away from Baltasar’s desperation to come, and as Izîl tipped over into the ecstasy of his climax Baltasar’s hand slipped down to the floor where his jacket lay. Izîl tipped his head back and roared. Seeing his opportunity, Baltasar grabbed his stake and lunged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking Holloween off to spend time with my family. I will be back to my usual once a day posting schedule Nov 1st.


	4. Chapter 4

>   
“Destruction, hence, like creation, is one of Nature's mandates.”  

> 
> ― **Marquis de Sade**

The stake pierced Izîl's heart, or it tried to but the vampire was suddenly painfully gripping Baltasar's arm. The human struggled against Izîl to no avail. He tried to shove Izîl away with his free hand, tried to punch and scratch him but Izîl jerked his other hand away. Then he was being slammed hard against the mattress with Izîl looming over him. Seduction turned into a rage that was burning brightly in his red eyes, he growled his teeth inches away from his face. Now, his hands like a vice grip around his throat

Baltasar gasped, struggling against Izîl's hands around his throat making the human flail like a fish out of water.

"You dare come into my territory, and try to kill me, Baltasar Kristofferson?"

Baltasar eyes went wide, heart pounding in his chest as panic, fear flooded through his body.

"Yes, I knew who you were from the moment you arrived at the gates."

"W-why?" Baltasar barely got out.

"Why did I let you in?" Izîl shrugged, nonchalantly. "I wanted to know how far you would take this charade." The vampire ducked down and his teeth were piercing his skin. Baltasar weakly tried to buck him off but with Izîl's hard weight was on top of him. It was like trying to move a boulder.

Eventually, Izîl releasing his grip, and licked lips that were stained red with Baltasar's blood. His hands weakly went to his neck and weakly pulled back to see his fingers drenched in blood. His eyes darted fearfully around the room for his stake and he couldn't find it; now the advantage of surprise was long gone. He thought to go for the second stake, but with the blood loss, he was too weak to move.

"So sweet," Izîl hummed to himself. He tapped his finger to his lips. "You are such a good fuck," Izîl, sighed. "And you are delicious too."

Izîl pushed his dreadlocks back, "Tell you what, let's make a deal."

"A-A deal?" Baltasar stuttered, a feeling of dread curling in his stomach.

"Yes, Izîl's fingers trailed down Baltasar's cheek. "If you are a good boy for the rest of the night. I'll free you in the morning"

"Why should I trust you?" Baltasar spat. "You _murdered_ my family."

Izîl growled, his face once again inches away from Baltasar's, "And your family _murdered_ dozens of my brethren with no cause!"

"They were _vampires_!"

"They were _people_," Izîl snapped. "They had dreams and lives just like you. The only difference is that they drink blood occasionally."

Baltazar scoffed, "You want me to believe that? They were monsters, just like you."

"You will agree to this deal now," Izîl replied curtly. "or I will kill you where you lay."

Baltasar didn't trust this deal in the slightest. However, if he took this deal, it would buy him the time he needed to think of a way to kill Izîl or plan his escape.

"I'll take it."

## ***

Baltasar wearily watched as Izîl scooted to the end of the bed. He leaned against the footboard looking unlike a lion lazily eying the gazelle before it pounced. Baltasar tried to not to show fear, but this was not a simple vampire. Izîl was ancient and but he was the most dangerous of the entire lot. Izîl Asar slaughtered indiscriminately. If you crossed him, you would murder not only you but your entire family. The old familiar mixture of rage and grief welled up inside of him of how he found his mother, father, and all of his extended family with their throats torn out, his childhood home in flames. He could still recall the scorching heat of the fire.

Baltasar would have been murdered right alongside his family if he hadn't snuck out to a party that night. Along with that, Izîl was heavily guarded unless he was having a tryst with one of his many lovers.

It was one reason it took him five long years to get close enough to kill him.

"Turn around," Izîl ordered, lazily.

Baltasar froze, and Izîl lifted an eyebrow and the human reluctantly did what he was told. His heartbeat was pounding in his ears, and he couldn't quite repress how his hands were shaking.

"On your hands and knees."

Baltasar complied.

"Spread your legs."

Baltasar closed his eyes, his cheeks flushing with heat.

"Wider."

Baltasar followed the vampire's command. He waited for Izîl to do something. The tension quickly moving from awkward to excruciating.

Baltasar almost jumps as cold hands abruptly on his ass. Izîl hands rub across his ass cheeks. The vampire pulled his cheeks apart to see his own come leaking out of his hole.

"Pretty little hole," Izîl hummed to himself, as he started to pet it. "Can't wait to wreck it again."

Baltasar could only do nothing but kept his arms down on the bed with his ass in the air. The humiliation and the shame rushing through him as his cock which had gone down at Izîl's earlier attack twitched in renewed interest.

Izîl's, thick fingers went back to rubbing Baltasar's ass. "But first, I think you need punishment."

"'What the hell?' " Baltasar swore, at the hard slap on his ass.

"Quiet!" Izîl barked, "You say nothing until I say so or our deal is void!"

Baltasar swallowed down his anger and nodded.

He bit back a curse as Izîl slapped his right cheek and then left in rapid succession. With his vampire strength, the pain hurt way more than a spanking he ever received as a child. The blows were random, each stinging as more than the last. Even though the pain, he didn't dare move. Despite himself, he found that his eyes were burning with unshed tears.

Baltasar stood like that for god knows how long, praying that his torment was over. To make things worse, his cock was so damn hard he thought it would die from the need to come. The submission had been tolerable when he was letting Izîl think he had the upper hand. But now, Izîl owned him for the night and he couldn't hide behind those excuses.

SMACK, SMACK, SMACK!

He bit his lips so hard; it was bleeding. His ass cheeks were hot and the pain and pleasure blurred together until Baltasar couldn't tell them apart. All he could do was hold on now and wait until Izîl got his fill.

His face dripping with tears, the time seemed to go on forever until Izîl stopped.

"Your ass looks so pretty when it's red," Izîl whispered in his ear. He palmed Baltasar's ass, and a whimper caught in his throat. The vampire moved away then and said: "Turn around."

Baltasar wanted to protest because the last thing he wanted to do was put any pressure on his burning ass. Yet, Izîl was terms for his deal that was very clear and he didn't want to risk his life. So, he carefully turned around and hissed at the pain.

Izîl just watched him, a smirk pulling at the edges of the vampire's mouth, "Good boy."

Baltasar glared at up at him. He ignored Baltasar. The human bit his lip and tried to repress his anger as best as he could.

Izîl climbed on top of him again, but instead of heading for his aching dick he hovered just above Baltasar's chest, his dick waving in the human’s face. He brushed his long dreadlocks back and smirked down at him. "Suck it!"

Baltasar narrowed his eyes, leaned forward and swallowed the vampire's cock. Izîl grabbed Baltasar's hair. "I said, suck it." He bobbed up and down, as inch by thick inch of that hard cock slid down his throat. The taste of the vampire's pre-come on his tongue, the strange coldness of Izîl's member was strangely pleasurable.

"God, just like that." Izîl moaned, "Your mouth was made to suck cock."

Baltasar felt a flush of his cheeks and concentrated on not choking.

"Stop."

Baltasar found himself, oddly disappointed but he stopped.

"Look at me."

"He blinked, and with some effort made himself look up to meet his Izîl's red eyes through the blur of tears. Izîl tightened his hold on Baltasar's head and started to move his hips; shoving his cock in and out of his mouth. His eye was burning as he tried not to gag.

"Yes, so good." Izîl said, leaning forward, shoving his cook so far into Baltasar's throat that he almost gagged on it, "Just take it."

He just held on to the headboard and was quickly overwhelmed. Everything slipped away and he all he could concentrate on with this moment, the burn of Izîl's thick cock stretching his lips, the salvia dripping from his chin, the grip of Izîl's fingers in his hair. The vampire started to pick up the pace, and Baltasar thought his jaw would fall off.

Izîl was a blur of motion and then there was a long groan as a deluge of come slid down his throat. He tried to swallow it but it leaked out down the side of his mouth; a trail of it side down his throat. The come wouldn't stop and Baltasar started to panic that he might choke thankfully, Izîl pulled out.

He bent over and his tongue swiped across his mouth. "I love the taste of you."

Baltasar wanted to beg to come, want to plead at this point but all that he could do was hold on for the ride. Turns, out that Vampires had zero refractory periods. Time passed by and it was all blur of sex. He couldn't even tell you how many positions that he had been in. But as the time ticked away, and the night faded gradually into the morning hours. By then, Baltasar had given up any hope that he would ever come. The room stank of sex and the sheets ruined a large puddle of come.

To his surprise, Baltasar managed not to come time after time. It shouldn't be possible, but it was strange what stubborn will power and fear could do. All Baltasar could do was groan, his entire body was tight with tension and the suppress need to come. He moaned as Izîl flipped him over once again on his hands and knees. The vampire didn't even ask, he just shoved Baltasar's legs apart. He held back tears, as realized Izîl's cock was hard yet again.

Izîl slid into him again, his hole was sore and dripping in come from all of their previous. Baltasar gave no resistance, he just laid there, defeated.

Baltasar's eyes went wide as Izîl's hands were around his neck and he was being jerked up to sit in his lap. Izîl's hips slapping against the human’s as he drove deep inside Baltasar. The strength of his hips was so strong that the bed slammed hard against the wall.

He just leaned back into it, his head falling on the vampire's broad shoulders.

"So, good." Izîl's deep voice purred into his ear. "Such a good obedient boy. You just love my cock, don't you?"

"Y-yes." He answered, despite himself.

"You love how I make you feel."

"Yes!" He wailed as Izîl hit his prostate with a hard thrust.

Baltasar could feel Izîl's cool breath on his neck and shivered as the vampire licked the place where his neck and shoulder met.

He grunted as he suddenly felt a torrent of cool come inside of him, and then Izîl's strong hand was reaching around to stroke his desperate cock.

"Come for me,"

It didn't take long, and before he knew it Baltasar's body arched, toes curling, as a rush of heat and pleasure swept through his entire body. His eyes snapped open as something sharp piercing his neck, his vision whiting out and he could only faintly hear sucking noises as the vampire drained him of blood over his rapidly pounding heart. The overwhelming pleasure that swept through his body like a tidal wave.

His breath stuttering in his chest. It occurred to Baltasar that he was dying. A small part of him welcomed to the pleasurable end to his life. His final thoughts were of his father and the sinking feeling of disappointment.


	5. Epilogue

Baltasar slowly opens his eyes. At first, he can't really see anything. His vision was murky and he was confused. 'Where am I?' As if the universe waited that moment to answer his vision suddenly cleared and Baltasar could see that he is in the opulent bedroom. He shivers at how cold the room was He looked and was surprised to discover that he was completely naked.

Then the memories started of last night started to trickle in. The party, Izîl taking him to bed, Baltasar trying and failing to kill him, the deal, the sex... Baltasar’s hands fly to the spot Izîl had bitten him. Yet, the skin was healed, he can only feel the faint traces of a scar there.

Panic rising in his throat, his hand goes to his arm to check his pulse.

There was nothing.

His eyes went to the shut curtains, and one moment is on the bed and in a blink of an eye, he was standing next to the curtains. Baltasar knows what he has to do. With shaking fingers and he starts to pull back the curtains but then he was being yanked bodily away from the curtains. He spins around and Izîl is standing there uncaring of his nudity.

"Do you really want to die, Baltasar?"

"What did you do to me!" Baltasar demanded, stumbling back.

Izîl smirked at him, and lifted an eyebrow, "Oh, don't play coy, Baltasar."

'You turned me into a vampire,’ Baltasar snarled.

'I did," Izîl calmly admitted.

Baltasar's vision literally turned red, he felt the piercing pain of his fangs dropping, as he lunged at him. But Izîl shoved him away like Baltasar's considerable weight meant nothing. He fell on his ass with oomph and Izîl rolled his eyes.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in.”

The door opened to reveal Jalen, once again dressed implacably in his bespoke suit. He bowed and his mouth split into a wide brilliant smile as he then turned to look at Baltasar. "I see everything went well, your majesty."

"W-why?" Baltasar shakily asked. "Why would you do this?"

"I promised you that I would free you." Izîl shrugged. "And so, I did. You are now free from your human problems. You are no longer bound by familial duty. " 

Baltasar could only stare at this vampire. Bile rose in his throat, and the room seemed to gradually close in on him.

"Your majesty," Jalen broke the silence. "You have court in less than an hour."

Izîl smirked and marched right up to Jalen and Baltasar watched in astonishment as he kissed Jalen. Their tongues tangled and Izîl moaned. Jalen broke the kiss, stepping back. He smiled, fangs glinting in the dim lamplight. “None of that, your majesty. You have someone else to take care of that.”

They both turned to Baltasar, scrambled back as he suddenly knew why he had been turned.

"Yes, Baltasar,” Izîl laughed, you were too delectable for just one night."

The new vampire scrambled back until his back hit the wall. "No, no, no, no!"

“You are mine Baltasar Kristofferson,” Izîl said. "Forever. "

Baltasar eyes darted around the room. He tried to look for a way to out of this but his stomach sank as it finally hit him that he was truly Izîl’s prisoner. Baltasar was his slave forever and there was truly no escape.

###    
  


THE END

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with me. I can't believe it's finished! Anyway, I plan publishing this story in the long run. However, until then you can find me at on [twitter](https://twitter.com/_imperialpurple) or on my blog [](https://theimperialpurple.com)

**Author's Note:**

> [1] jekk jogħġbok - please


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